


i'll fuck you like the devil

by crybaby



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, halloween fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crybaby/pseuds/crybaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <br/>
    <i>Harry rests back against what he guesses must be Louis’ desk, resting his bum over his notebooks as Louis plucks at the devil ears, tossing them to his bed. ‘So, what’s a little twink like you doing in my flat?’ he asks with a wicked grin as he takes a step to where Harry’s standing.</i>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>(Harry is 17, dresses as an angel for Halloween, and attends Louis' Halloween party. Louis fucks him)</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	i'll fuck you like the devil

**Author's Note:**

> Wow this is overdue oopsies and riddled with errors oops
> 
>  
> 
> **DISCLAIMER: I dont not own anyone or anything**

Niall’s giggly, his lips already stained burgundy from the wine. Harry thinks he probably looks no better.

 

‘Put it on!’ Niall giggles, thrusting the heap of tulle and there’s a little voice right in the back of Harry’s mind telling him this could be a bad idea, but he finally relents and takes the feather-light bundle of white fabric from Niall.

 

Niall lets out another quick giggle before he can smother it with his hand. He pulls down the hem of his tight pink dress, tottering in his bubblegum kitten heels, and Harry starts to laugh again, loud and unabashed as he strips off his jumper.

 

‘You’re sure we won’t get into trouble?’ Harry asks, pushing his jeans down to bunch around his ankles.

 

Niall sighs and tosses the pair of feathered wings at Harry. Harry flinches and giggles.

 

‘My brother is taking us himself, we’ll be fine.’ Niall takes another swig from the wine bottle.

 

Harry shimmies the light fabric up his thighs. Niall starts to giggle when he gets it up to his waist, chuckling into his palm before Harry pinches at a thin spaghetti strap and pulls up until he can slip his arm through and pull the one strap up onto his shoulder, then the next. He gets his arm stuck about halfway through, and that has Niall finally giving in and laughing, falling back onto his desk chair and guffawing.

 

Harry feels painfully vulnerable in the situation, but finds himself giggling along. ‘What?’ he begs, dragging out the word as he manages to finally slip the strap up onto his shoulder.

 

‘That was my sister’s when she was twelve! And you fit into it!’

 

Harry doesn’t really get why Niall’s laughing so hard, but he finds himself joining him until he’s tripping back onto the bed and curling in as his belly starts to ache with it.

 

By the time Harry’s calmed down, he’s gotten used to the feeling of the soft tulle against his skin. Niall throws him a pair of socks, and Harry gives him a soft smile as he pulls them up to mid-calf. He pulls on his ratty tennis shoes and ties them with little bows before running a hand through his messy hair.

 

Niall totters to the bathroom and Harry follows after him, standing back and watching in the mirror as Niall slathers his lips in bright pink lipstick and does his eyes up in bright blue eyeshadow. When Niall starts ruffling his hair, Harry takes the time to look himself over, toying with the delicate hem of the dress.

 

It’s white and clings to his chest, gauzy and pure with two thin straps over the milky skin of his shoulders. At the waist, the dress flares into multiple layers of soft tulle, all different lengths with the longest ending at the top of his thighs. He thinks he looks good, almost pretty even, but maybe he’s wrong. He runs his fingers through his shower-soft hair and fluffs it with his fingertips as Niall slips a pink hair bow into his hair.

 

‘Hurry up!’ a deep voice comes from Niall’s room, and Niall blows his reflection a kiss, his cheeks pink more from tipsy-ness than the blusher, before he’s cursing out a reply, and Harry’s trailing after him, suddenly bashful at the thought of showing other people what he’s wearing.

 

Niall plucks up the feathery wings from next to his bed and passes them to Harry, wobbling in the short heels as he picks the glittery pink handbag off his desk then the length of gold ribbon, handing it to Harry, before he can smile at his brother in the doorway. ‘Ready!’

 

His older brother, Matty, looks up from his phone and raises his eyebrows at Niall, his lips twitching into a smile.

 

‘Playboy bunny?’ he asks, and Harry thinks he might also be a bit tipsy judging by his slur.

 

Niall pouts and totters over to him, slapping his shoulder. ‘Barbie.’

 

Matty rolls his eyes and reaches to ruffle Niall’s hair, making Niall relent and laugh, trotting off down the stairs. Matty hangs in the doorway as Harry ties the gold ribbon around his head, tying a neat little bow at the front before swivelling it to the back. He pulls the wings on one elastic hoop at a time, adjusting the straps to lie over those of the dress before he’s shuffling them about so the wings are sitting evenly and the feathers tickle his shoulder blades.

 

Matty’s smiling at him from the doorway when Harry turns around, with brotherly softness in his eyes. ‘Don’t tell Niall I said this,’ he starts, tucking his phone into the pocket of his leather trousers, ‘but you look a lot prettier than he does.’

 

Harry thinks the pink on his cheeks isn’t because of alcohol or blusher.

 

 

 

 

When they get there, Harry’s got butterflies flapping around in his tummy and he feels a bit nauseous, not helped by Matty’s driving or Niall’s loud music choice.

 

Matty leads them into the flat-block, where music courses through the walls from all the different Halloween parties, and Harry’s hand finds Niall’s as Matty presses the lift button.

 

Under the harsh lighting of the lift, Harry thinks he can see what Matty meant. Niall looks bright and flashy in messy make-up, while Harry looks soft and plain, the slight gold tint of his skin making sure he doesn’t blend into the pure white of the dress or the angel wings. Niall nudges him sharply with an elbow in his side when the lift jumps and Harry loses his stomach on another floor as they step out.

 

Harry watches as Matty leads them to the right door, his hips swaying with bravado to suit his Russel Brand costume as he pushes open a door without knocking and holds it open for Niall and Harry to step through.

 

It’s loud and even though the flat is rather large, it’s full with people occupying every space. Matty drifts away immediately, going in to hug a girl dressed as a nurse and leaving Harry and Niall in the doorway.

 

‘Remember, you’re eighteen.’ Niall whispers into his ear, before his rough fingers are circling Harry’s wrist and he’s pulling him into it. Niall pulls him along to where there’s a table set up for beer pong, his game, and one of the boys playing gets distracted by him and starts laughing. Niall lets go of his wrist and asks to play the next round.

 

Harry has the aim and coordination of a newborn calf, so he takes to resting back against the display cabinet to the side of the table as Niall sets up the next game.

 

Sometime into it, as Niall’s gulping down something that slips more down his chin than his throat, someone rests next to Harry, nylon against his bare thigh.

 

He turns his head to look, gets met with a defined profile and scruffy jaw. ‘Hi,’ he offers, somewhat shyly. The man looks at him, his eyes bright and lined in black with a mouth the colour of blood. He has plastic red horns peeking out from the scruffy mess of chestnut hair.

 

‘Hi,’ he copies, his mouth twisting up.

 

Harry doesn’t know what else to say, so he leaves at that, except. He finds that he wants to keep looking at him, so he sneaks a short sideways glance, hiding under his soft fringe and tucking his lip between his teeth. He swallows down the line of the man’s throat, the bone of his jaw, the sweep of his lashes, before he’s caught and the man looks back at him, his lips set in a filthy smirk.

 

‘See something you like, babe?’ he asks, and Harry feels his cheeks flame hotter than hell.

 

‘It’s Harry,’ he offers, ducking his chin and staring at where he tangles his fingers in front of his groin.

 

‘Louis.’ the man replies, but his teeth dig into his lip and he bites like he knows that Harry’s eyes are going to watch it, before he adds, ‘You should know that though, because this is my flat, and this is an invitation only party.’

 

Harry’s blood stops and ices in his veins, and his eyes widen. He looks to Niall, finding him to be celebrating with a boy with messy hair and big brown eyes, not noticing the panic obvious on Harry’s face.

 

He’s about to stutter out an apology when Louis takes a sip from his cup and pushes off from the cabinet and calls a cocky ‘Follow me,’ behind him, already sure that Harry’s going to follow him.

 

Harry does.

 

He trails after him, through the masses of people that seem to part for Louis, shadowing behind him quietly before Louis’ stopping at a door and pulling a keyring from his pocket, unlocking the door before stepping in and holding it open for Harry.

 

‘I generally prefer to be the only one who fucks in my bed.’ Louis explains, locking the door after them with a click that makes shivers rise at the back of Harry’s neck. Harry rests back against what he guesses must be Louis’ desk, resting his bum over his notebooks as Louis plucks at the devil ears, tossing them to his bed. ‘So, what’s a little twink like you doing in my flat?’ he asks with a wicked grin as he takes a step to where Harry’s standing.

 

‘I came with my friend’s older brother. Matty?’ he offers, grabbing at the desk so that his fingers don’t start to tap nervously.

 

Louis hums and steps closer, up until he’s almost in Harry’s space.

 

‘How old are you Harry?’ he asks, his eyes flashing.

 

‘Almost eighteen.’ Harry blurts before he can remember to lie, instantly digging his teeth into his lower lip.

 

‘So, seventeen?’

 

Harry nods, then looks down to his feet, somewhere between embarassed and ashamed.

 

Louis grins and Harry can almost feel the heat of his skin. ‘You’re so young. Sweet, little angel.’ His fingers walk along the edge of the desk, towards Harry’s, and Harry gulps.

 

Louis takes a deep breath then, mouth close enough to Harry's that he thinks if he just took one more step and tilted up, he could kiss him, let him taste the wine on his tongue. ‘You a virgin?’ he asks next, stepping closer to Harry so they stand almost chest to chest. He rests his hands over Harry’s where they grip the edge of his desk. His teeth look sharp, and his eyes look like bare electricity.

 

Harry thinks back to Zayn Malik and the new bottle of his older sister’s vodka that he’d hidden in his backpack. He thinks back to the game of spin the bottle that ended with him and Zayn in a bathroom with hands in each other’s pants before they’d giggled and run upstairs to Zayn’s bedroom where he’d opened Harry up using lube found in his parent’s room and how he’d fucked Harry under his duvet with his tongue his mouth. Harry remembers biting into his shoulder as he came and not being able to walk the next day.

 

He shakes his head slowly, his cheeks flushing even brighter under Louis’ scrutiny as Louis curls his fingers over Harry’s hands, steps closer so their chests brush.

 

‘Your costume’s a bit misleading then, don’t you think?’ he asks, and before Harry can reply, he’s got soft lips against his that kiss his mouth open before he can take a deep breath. Louis tastes like spirits and Harry almost whimpers as Louis wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him to his chest, nudging a thigh between Harry’s own. Harry gasps then, Louis’ tongue teasing his as he holds Harry’s body close to him and Harry wraps his arms around his neck, Louis slipping his hand down to cup his arse through the tulle.

 

‘Would you like me to fuck you, princess?’ he asks, dragging his lips over Harry’s cheek and breathing against his ear. His stubble tickles Harry’s skin.

 

Harry bites into his lower lip, tries to calm his mind and thinks about it for a second before he nods, eyes squeezed tight. Louis nips at his earlobe.

 

‘Can you get yourself naked for me angel?’ Louis steps away from him, hooking his thumbs into his bright red tights as Harry takes a deep breath to collect himself before pushing off the elastic bands of the angel wings and letting them rest on the desk.

 

Louis pulls his red jumper off, tossing it into a heap and kicking his tights off absently, standing in nothing but black pants. Harry pinches the hem of the dress between his fingers before he’s pulling the dress up, over his body. He gulps as he toes off his tennis shoes, setting the gauzy dress over Louis’ messy work as he tries to toe his socks off. Louis pulls his underwear down his thighs with little care and stands bare but for the necklace hanging between his collarbones, leaving Harry to twist his fingers and squeeze his eyes shut as he pushes down the waistband of his underwear.

 

He wraps his fist around his semi, trying to rationalize in his mind for a moment before he thinks of Niall and thinks that maybe he should do what Niall would and just relax and enjoy the situation. He slips the gold ribbon out of his hair before he turns to face Louis with a new bout of confidence.

 

Louis sits down on the mattress, leaning against the pillow as he roams his eyes up Harry’s body with dark eyes as his canines bite into his red lip. Harry gingerly climbs onto the mattress, kneeling at the foot as his hands subtly try to cover his semi in the process. Harry takes a second to properly track down Louis' body, from the gold of hiscollr bones down the muscle of his arms, the soft of his stomach and down the light hair under his navel, to where his cock lies, almost full and flushed. Harry's mouth runs wet; he's a lot bigger than Zayn was. He can feel the heat of Louis' eyes tracing over him at the same time.

 

Louis rests back on the bed, body golden against his cream coloured sheets. Harry can feel the bass of the music outside the room, hard and heavy and sweaty as he kneels onto the mattress, his knees sinking in to the soft matress.

 

Louis beckons him closer with a raise of his eyebrow followed by a crook of his finger. Harry crawls closer to him, settling himself to hover half over his body as Louis tilts his chin up and Harry leans down, pressing his mouth against Louis’.

 

He holds himself with his palm flat against the sheets, tucked into the crook of Louis’ underarm, his other palm flat on the other side of Louis’ neck. Louis reaches across to the bedside table, grabs the sachet of lube and tears it open as he licks into the spread of Harry’s mouth, his knuckles brushing against Harry’s quivering stomach as he does.

 

Louis reaches to let his hand map down Harry’s spine, wedging Harry’s wrist into the crease of his underarm in the process.

 

His palm settles over his tailbone as Harry shifts his knees wider, spreads himself, as Louis’ fingers dip and circle around his rim, sticky and teasing. Harry barely has a second to take a deep breath before Louis presses and his first then second fingertip slip in.

 

Louis presses his fingers in till the knuckle, not bothering with giving Harry adjustment time and just tracing the roof of his mouth with his dirty tongue as distraction. Harry squeaks, Louis spreading his fingers into a V.

 

He’s quick with it, crooking and crimping his fingers to loosen Harry up around them, not bothering with pleasuring Harry with it. He thrusts his fingers fast into Harry, slick and wet with lube until he’s nipping at Harry’s lower lip and finally pressing his middle finger over Harry’s sweet spot, crooked at awkward angle and pressing with such surety that Harry gasps, a bead of prefuck bubbling from the head of his cock and dripping down onto sheet.

 

Harry reaches down to wrap his fingers under his cock head, catching the wetness still on his head with his thumb and stroking down as Louis teases his tongue along Harry’s teeth, drawing his fingers from Harry’s arse and rubbing them off over his hole, covering him with excess lube. Louis grabs a handful of his arse, kneading his fingers in before squeezing and pulling him apart even more.

 

Louis pulls back, holding Harry’s lower lip between his sharp teeth and giving Harry’s arse a quick slap.

 

He pulls himself out from under Harry’s body, slipping off the bed. Harry settles to sit with his bum against his calves, body feeling a bit hot as he watches Louis dig through the bedside table. Louis runs his skinny fingers through his piled hair, pulling on the strands as he pulls a foil square from the draw, lifting it towards his mouth and biting down on the foil with his sharp teeth.

 

‘Do you have to-’ Harry starts, but the words die in his throat as Louis’ eyes flick to him, hard and dark.

 

‘Do I have to what?’ he asks, tearing the foil with his fingertips. Harry watches as he plucks at the disc of latex. Louis raises an eyebrow and Harry looks down to his knees, feeling disgusting vulnerable and childish under his harsh gaze.

 

‘Do you have to wear one?’ Harry asks softly, pinching at the sheets with his fingertips. They’re rich, expensive; the type he’d bought his mum for mother’s day with her money when he was eleven.

 

‘You must have failed sex ed.’ Louis snorts, and Harry looks up under his fringe to watch as Louis rolls the condom over his cock, pinching at the tip as rolls it down to base. Harry eyes the tip of his cock, flushed angry red to match the shade of his lips. Louis climbs back onto the bed, reaches for Harry’s jaw and grips just under the both of his ears, his fingers stretching so his palm presses to Harry’s throat. Louis tips his head up, leans in and presses his mouth open by pulling down on his jaw. He leans in and licks into Harry’s mouth, his tongue hot and slow. ‘Unsafe sex leads to unwanted teen pregnancy and STI’s.’

 

Harry moans as Louis licks apart at his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut. Louis draws back much too soon, reaching back to the bedside table for the second lube sachet.

 

‘Can you move here for me, babe? Face on the pillow and ass in the air for me, alright?’ he commands absently, ripping open the foil as Harry complies, his long body folding as he shifts to press his forehead against the feather pillow, his arms folded. He shifts his knees wider, feeling his cheeks colour as he spreads himself open for Louis.

 

He holds position, just listening to the thrum of the music and the sound of Louis working himself slowly, before Louis touches him, rubs his slick fingertips over his rim before pressing his middle finger back inside of him, precautionary.

 

‘Actually...’ Louis starts once he’s wiped his fingers off on the spread. He settles his hands on Harry’s hips before running them down his thighs, his fingers curling around the front of each thigh and pulling back until Harry’s resting on his front, cock smushed up against the duvet. Louis makes a sound of approval in his throat, hands running back up to Harry’s hips before squeezing his bum, spreading him open again. He gives no warning before he’s nudging two fingers back inside. ‘better.’

 

Harry gasps as Louis spreads his fingers, fucking them in slowly, until he’s satisfied and draws them out. Louis slowly drags his fingers over Harry’s hole, just tracing it, before he’s wrapping his fist back around himself and Harry’s gripping onto the pillow, his forehead against the cover as Louis holds him open and shifts his weight on the bed.

 

Louis’ presses against him, his cock hot and slick as he pulls Harry apart and presses his hips forward. He teases his cock head over Harry’s hole, letting it slip and catch to the point that Harry’s ready to open his mouth and beg, but then he shifts his hips forward and rests his hands on the mattress on either side of Harry, leaning his body to hover over Harry’s back as he pushes inside him. Harry takes a deep breath; lungs feeling compacted as Louis slowly fills him.

 

Louis presses until his hip bones press against Harry arse, curving his body over Harry so he can nip at the shell of his ear, breath hot against his skin. Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, his mouth falling open and face turning so his cheek presses against the pillow.

 

Louis nips at his earlobe, kissing right under Harry’s ear after, and shifts his hips in small figure eights before he draws back slightly on to fuck back in. He jumps straight into easy rhythm, the pendant of his necklace resting between Harry’s shoulder blades as he slowly fucks him. Harry moans softly, his cock grinding against the duvet as Louis’ hips grind against his bum.

 

Louis draws out further; fucking Harry in slow, even strokes that make Harry’s chest flutter between heavy breaths and gasps. Louis nips just below his ear, picking up half-pace as Harry starts to sweat beneath his hairline. Louis’ fingers clench in the sheet, and he kisses at Harry’s jaw, softly as his cock drags in and out with thrusts designed to rub over his spot.

 

Louis adds a hint more power and Harry moans, burying his face in the pillow as Louis breathes out over his ear with hot and heavy breaths. His hips fuck into Harry with an easy, languid grace, slow but strong and confident. His brow furrows as a high sound works out his throat, and Louis breathes out into the nape of his neck before pressing a kiss there, just over the first bump of his spine.

 

‘You good, princess?’ Louis asks, slowing his hips as Harry clenches down around him, nods. Louis looks down between them, drags his hips back until he’s just got the tip of his cock inside Harry before he lets himself push back in, moulding over the shape of his back as his slaps his hips against Harry’s arse slightly.

 

Harry gasps as Louis fucks in and against his prostate, his hands slipping to grip at the sheet and his fingers clenching as he bites into his lip. Louis’ breath is heavy and stable at the back of his neck, much more calm than his slowly quickening thrusts inside Harry.

 

Louis presses deeper as he holds himself back up, his pendant slipping over Harry’s hot skin as Louis gives a strong thrust and stays, buried to hilt, inside Harry. He presses his hips further forward, shifting Harry against the duvet as he grinds his cock inside of Harry.

 

Harry’s toes point, thighs sprawled open with Louis between them. Louis holds for a count of four before he thrusts back into him, straight back into his quickened pace that has Harry’s calves lifting off the bed before he can dig his toes back into the duvet as Louis leans in to plant a wet kiss at the corner of his mouth as he puffs out heavy breaths. Harry gasps, a moan caught in his throat, and Louis takes opportunity to claim his kiss, pressing their mouths together and twining their tongues as Harry’s skin flushes while Louis’ hips slap against his arse.

 

Louis tastes him as Harry pours his moans past his lips, Louis fucking him faster and settling his hand on Harry’s flank and rubbing with his palm, such contrast to the rhythm of his hips. Harry thinks he feels like a he could be a athlete, with the way his hips move fluidly and take what they want, claim Harry’s body.

 

Louis bucks his hips once, twice, then again before he pulls back from the kiss, pushing himself back onto his knees and slipping from Harry’s body. Harry whimpers, turning his head so he can watch as Louis reaches for the sachet again and squeezes the rest onto his fingers, wrapping them around his thick length.

 

Harry twists his neck to watch Louis tease the head of his cock through the latex, watches as he digs his sharp teeth into his full lower lip and his eyes flutter shut. Harry’s mouth gets wet at the thought of sucking his cock, tasting his precome as it dribbles down his throat and how his fingers would twist and pull his hair. Louis moans softly before pressing his hand back to the centre of Harry’s arse cheek, pulling him open and directing his cock to press against his hole.

 

He thrusts in fast, his palms flat in the sweaty creases of his underarms as he fucks Harry hard and fast enough that his back arches and his head tilts up, a long moan wracked from his throat. Harry drops to smother himself with the pillow, his mouth open wide and breathing out wet into the cover as Louis bucks into him.

 

Louis noses at his hairline, mixing in long, slow strokes between every couple of quick fucks. Harry can feel the tight muscle of his lower stomach with every hard thrust into him, and he whimpers before his hands are scrabbling and fitting over Louis’, almost shaking as their fingers twist together. Harry’s elbow presses into Louis’ and Louis laughs softly, breathy, as Harry whines, before he’s plastering his body along the length of Harry’s back, sweaty skin to sweaty skin, and his hips thrust and grind against him, his nipples hard and rubbing against the soft skin that wraps over Harry’s shoulder blades.

 

Louis buries his nose in Harry’s hair, inhaling so that Harry can feel his ribs expand against his back, before Louis’ kissing and his hairline and down to his lips, a mix between frantic and calm. His hips slap against Harry’s arse as he kisses Harry until his mind is fuzzy and consumed by Louis’ scent and Louis’ touch and just _Louis_.

 

Harry works his hips back to meet Louis’, chasing the taste of the vodka in the crevices of Louis’ mouth as he pushes back to get his cock deeper, have him drag over his spot harder. Louis holds it, sucking Harry’s tongue into his mouth as he twists his hips in small circles, his sac pressed against Harry’s.

 

When Louis breaks the kiss, his lips are red and Harry thinks his must be no better. His toes point and flex as Louis rests his hands on either side of his waist, holding him down as his hips rabbit against his arse.

 

Harry’s toes curl, his body trying to arch up as Louis holds him down and fucks him, mouth falling open as Louis hovers with his lips almost at Harry’s ear, hot breath shimmering out with every thrust. Harry’s skin tingles with it, and he feels like he’s flying as Louis dips to plaster along his back, mumbling out obscenities as his stubble scratches at the soft skin of Harry’s jaw.

 

His cock feels tortured; hard and drooling where it’s sandwiched between his tummy and the soft bedding, which starts to feel like fire against his sensitive cockhead. Louis’ hands slip from his skin, his body sweat-slick as Louis fists the bedding on either side of him, his hips slapping against Harry’s arse as he pants. Harry’s mouth falls open as a constant string of moans just tumble out, long and needy.

 

He turns his face against the pillow, his cheeks blazing and skin tight, tries to raise himself up on his elbows to twist his body and look back at Louis. Louis smirks at him, his eyes dark and glinting and his mouth red. Louis holds steady eye-contact as he rams into him, Harry’s eyes sinking down to try and see where they meet before the position has his arms twitching and he’s falling back flat to the mattress.

 

Harry’s twists as much as he can, eyes drawn to the mess of black up Louis’ arm and how his muscles are trembling, his fingers tense and white-knuckled as he grips to the duvet and fucks Harry.

 

Louis must notice his mind wondering, because he changes tactic to short sharp thrusts, aimed directly at Harry’s prostate, that have Harry arching up, baring his neck and stretching his jaw up as he moans and whimpers, body shaking as Louis fucks him. He feels his skin draw tight, his muscles tensing, but then Louis’ kissing along his jaw and licking over the shell of his ear before his whiskey voice is murmuring, ‘Don’t you dare come, angel.’

 

Harry keens, trying to fend away the urge as Louis’ cockhead rubs up against his spot with his own cockhead grinds against the duvet. A whine squeaks out of him, high and desperate, and he’s so close.

 

But Louis leans back on his knees and pulls Harry’s hips with him, bringing him back to rest on his knees, and he snakes his hand to wrap around the base of his cock, pinching down until Harry whimpers and he drops his face back to the pillow, the tingly sensitive dulling slightly as the urge to come calms down.

 

Louis slows then, back to his slow teasing drags that have Harry pulling and twisting on the sheets, biting down on the pillow cover as his hips shift back in a search for more. Louis laughs softly as his hips slow to an almost halt and Harry whines, a dry sob sitting beneath his collarbones as his body tingles with a need.

 

He fucks his hips back, his arse slapping against Louis’ lower stomach as he starts a rhythm of quickly working himself back on Louis’ cock. Louis laughs again, softer and more breathy, as his hand settles on Harry’s shoulder, pressing him down as he works his hips and tries to desperately fuck himself as Louis gives half-hearted thrusts into him.

 

Harry whines again, squeezing his eyes tight enough that he feels moisture at the corners, a soft sob finally escaping his lips. Louis’ laughter finally seems to die in his throat as Harry’s body shudders when he fucks himself back. Louis’ hand is scalding hot against his skin, his touch burning a brand into Harry’s skin as he slides his palm down between his shoulder blades and down over his spine before his fingers curl around Harry’s hip as Harry gives a weak hiccup and a pitiful whimper, his chest heaving as he pants with the exertion of thrusting back onto Louis’ cock.

 

Louis presses his hips back down, has Harry collapsing flat onto the mattress as he grinds his hips against Harry’s arse, cock buried inside him. Harry breathes in deeply, face pressed into the pillow as his fingers claw at the duvet. His body twitches and shivers as Louis bites at his shoulder, fucks him until he thinks he’s floating.

 

Louis’ pendant tickles between his shoulder blades again, and Harry can barely focus as he mouth pours out needy moans. Harry shifts to press his cheek against the pillow, needing the air as his chest heaves with it. Louis gives a hard thrust that makes Harry keen and a dry sob heave from his chest before Louis is swallowing it, sealing his lips in a kiss of all teeth and tongue.

 

When Louis pulls back, Harry’s eyes dart to his face, his hands scrabbling to cover Louis’ and twine their fingers together. Louis’ eyes are dark, teasing, and Harry has to look away. His eyes settle on their tangled fingers, and a high whimper sneaks past his lips as he feels another hot tear slip from the corner of his eye.

 

He props himself up onto his forearms, Louis targeting his poor prostate with each hard thrust and Harry’s eyes squeeze shut as a string of whimpers work their way out in a tone so much higher than Harry thought he would ever be capable of. Harry feels on fire, has three words ready to spill from his lips at his body’s confusion from so much concentrated pleasure.

 

Harry arches, his neck barring as Louis noses beneath his ear, presses a kiss to the column of his throat. Harry fucks back onto Louis, lifting his hips as he tries to match his body to Louis’, his knees slipping on the sheets as he tries to get to his knees.

 

Louis holds himself up, lets Harry get himself onto his knees so he can have more propulsion when he pushes back onto his cock before he rests his hands hot on the skin of Harry’s waist.

 

While Harry tries to go faster, Louis slows, rubbing his thumbs down the line of his spine and back up, slotting to wrap his fingers over the lines of his ribs where they press out his skin. Harry whines, wiggling his hips back as Louis rubs his sweaty palms down Harry’s sides and settles them on his hips. He presses his fingers into the skin before he draws out, fucking back into Harry hard and fast.

 

Harry’s eyes roll back, a long moan coming from him as his head hangs down, shoulders tense as Louis grips tight to his hips and holds him steady as he pistons his hips forward. He runs a hand up the centre of Harry's back, resting in the centre and pressing as he leans his weight back and Harry whimpers, fingers clenching as Louis fucks him.

 

Louis’ fingers slip down to curl around the front of Harry's thigh, his fingers pressing into the flesh as he presses down on his back so his body arches into a bow.

 

'Fuck, Harry.' Louis spits, his fingers twitching where they rest against his back. Harry bites his lip, only able to nod in agreement as Louis brings his hand up so they both rest on Harry's spine, pressing him down into an arch and scrabbling against his skin as his skin slaps at the back of Harry's thighs, the dusting of hair beneath his navel tickling over Harry's tailbone as he curls his hips against Harry's bum.

 

He digs his nails into Harry’s skin as Harry sobs, whining high in his throat as Louis’ hips bounce against his arse. Harry bites into his forearm, his eyes squeezing as his cock thrums, his blood hot in his veins as Louis shadows over his back and slides in and out of his body. He curls his fingers around the back of Harry’s neck, pushing himself up to balance on his arm as his hips slap and Harry keens.

 

He slips his thigh to kneel over Harry’s, applying his leverage to fuck him harder and deeper as tears trickle down Harry’s flushed cheeks. Louis grips hard on his neck as Harry huffs for breath, his body twisting beneath Louis. Harry looks at him over his shoulder, his chest heaving desperately as tears stream from his eyes, his voice wet.

 

‘Please,’ he whimpers, his cock impossibly hard where it’s pressed against his stomach.

 

Louis fists his fingers into the sheets as Harry chews on his lower lip, tears streaking his rosy cheeks.

 

‘Fuck,’ Louis moans again, taking in the sight of Harry, flushed and pink and needy.

 

Louis presses Harry down, sliding his hand down his back to press his hips down as he draws himself out, Harry giving a pathetic little whimper.

 

‘Stay put,’ Louis whispers, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his wrist as Harry shakes to get into position, up on his forearms with his hair clinging to his forehead as the music from outside thumps into the room.

 

He teases his slick cockhead over Harry’s hole, Harry letting out a soft mewl as his hips shift forward and Louis slowly sinks back in. He sets his hands on Harry’s shoulders, his fingers curling in and digging into the skin as he starts to fuck Harry and Harry keens, whines through his head as his eyes flutter between open and closed.

 

Louis grips harder to his shoulders as his hips slap his arse and the feeling as a new wave of tears rolling down Harry’s cheeks and his mouth stutters to form words, before all that’s coming from him is a gasping moan that pitches with each jab of Louis’ cock to his spot.

 

Louis leans in to kiss him, pressing his hands open-palmed to the bedspread so he can connect their lips in a slow kiss as his hips pause. He teases Harry’s mouth open, right from his ears, so that he can lick into him and taste him all he likes. Harry whines and feels the top of his head fly off as the steady moans that pour from him switch up higher.

 

Louis finishes the kiss by drawing back, leaving Harry to flop down on his hot chest and rest his cheek to the pillow, eyes closed as his chest heaves and he struggles to find breath. He forces it out, his throat feeling like velcro as he pants dryly and his tongue sits heavy behind his teeth.

 

His body starts to tingle, right up from his toes, through his thighs, up his spine, and all over his scalp. He feels like he’s flying, just whining pathetically as Louis fucks him hard enough to make him lose himself.

 

Harry wheezes, his chest feeling hot and tight and he wonders if his childhood asthma might come back to visit soon. Louis evens out his strokes, dragging them out longer, until he’s drawing out of Harry completely, and Harry can take a big gulp of air.

 

‘Okay babe, roll over for me.’ Louis says easily, just a hint of breath to his voice as he purrs over Harry ear, and Harry whimpers, his body heavy and lazy and thrumming. ‘Come on love, I know you can do it.’ he teases, and Harry can hear the smirk in his voice as he rolls over onto his back, hair fanning out against the pillows.

 

Louis grins at him, sharp teeth and blood red lips, and Harry feels a pitiful mewl on the tip of his tongue as Louis wraps his soft fingers around the angel bones of his ankles and pushes up so he can slot between his splayed legs and push Harry’s thighs to his chest. He pushes Harry, pushes his ankles further until they’re resting on his shoulders and Harry gives a dry sob as his muscles pull and screech, his body spread wide and vulnerable.

 

Harry gasps, body bent in half, as Louis blindly presses his cock back inside Harry, stroking his fingers up his trembling thigh and grinning wickedly as Harry mewls, his eyelashes clumped and wet and his cheeks ruddy.

 

Harry reaches to grip high at his biceps as Louis decides to start rocking into him, stepping into the speeding pace as Harry’s eyes glue to his, hazy and trying to focus on the dark swirl of his irises as Louis fucks the sound out of him. Louis presses his forehead right up against Harry’s, noses brushing and breath hot as Harry’s upper canines dig into his lower lip again.

 

‘Touch your pretty cock for me please. princess,’ Louis growls, hot and gravelly over the wet of Harry’s mouth and Harry whines, takes a deep breath as he skirts his hand down his stomach and his fingetips graze the hot flesh of his cock.

 

He keens, his knuckles brushing against the wet tip being enough to make his toes curl in the bed as Louis pinches at the duvet, his brow furrowed as he fucks Harry and slaps his hips to the curve of Harry’s arse.

 

The soft hair trailing down from Louis’ navel tickles over the tight skin of Harry’s sac, the weight of his pendant dragging between Harry’s nipples. Harry sobs, cut off and soon replaced by a high whine. Louis’ thighs slap against his arse with each stroke, loud and crude and the sound makes Harry’s toes curl and a whiny whimper resonate from his chest.

 

The sweat of his skin sticks to Harry’s, until his skin is shiny and his eyes are dazed as Louis breathes the hot air from the efforts of keeping Harry on edge out over his bruised lips. Harry wraps his fingers around the base of his cock, feels the heat rush through his veins as Louis fucks his breathing into little pants, his fingers scalding against the tender skin of his cock as he fists himself lightly to the rhythm of Louis’ hips.

 

The backs of his thighs burn, pulled tight as Louis’ eyelashes flutter and Harry’s consumed with how beautiful he is, soft, forced breaths coming out his blood lips as he fucks Harry like it’s nothing, like Harry isn’t floating and crying from it. Harry gives a soft sob, his fingers squeezing under the head of his cock as words start to form in his throat, trying to get out. He finds himself almost confessing his love, his body too blissed to link the pleasure with anything other than a simple four lettered word as Louis’ wrists make contact with the sides of Harry’s ribs, hot and burning and Harry thinks he’s going to leave this room with the brand of the devil burnt into his skin.

 

Harry’s throat feels wet and it feels like he’s getting less and less air into his lungs, up to the point where he knows he should push Louis off him and take a deep breath before he lets him continue, but the restriction of air that makes its way into his lungs makes him desperate, makes his eyelids heavy and his fingertips tingle.

 

‘You gonna come yet, angel?’ Louis asks, and Harry nods, can feel it coursing out from his core and down through his limbs, the sticky sweet feeling of it slipping in between his joints and cuddling in with the marrow in his bones.

 

Louis pulls back and Harry whimpers, fresh teardrops tracing down the previous tracks before swimming out into the smudges of wet beside his mouth. ‘Not yet,’ Louis decides, an air of authority about him as he sits back and pinches at the base of his cock. He fixes his eyes to where Harry’s still working himself, desperate. He circles two fingers around the angel boned wrist and draws his hand from his cock, making Harry let out a soft, disobedient cry.

 

‘None of that babe, you’re gonna ride me now, okay?’

 

Harry gives a petulant whine and shakes his head, his body exhausted and lazy and he can feel the hot burn of tears streaking down his cheeks, and not for the first time that night, he feels like a little boy, arguing with his mum about eating his vegetables.

 

Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, and there’s a soft hand cupping his jaw, a thumb swiping under the line of his clumped eyelashes to brush away his tears. Fingers circle his throbbing cock and he gasps, his body shivering and his hips twitching as his fingers clench in the duvet.

 

‘Come on princess, you can do it. Up you get. You’re so good for me.’

 

Harry whines as Louis drags his palm over Harry’s tip, catching the wet and smoothing it down, before he’s offering Harry a hand and encouraging him up. Harry lets himself be pulled up, reaching for Louis as he slumps forward into Louis’ chest.

 

Louis wraps his arms around him and kisses his forehead, and Harry feels a little dazed as he smiles at him. Louis just wipes his hair back off his forehead and kisses the tip of his nose, a hint of tenderness to his smirking bravado.

 

He releases Harry to lie flat on his back, resting on his elbows and Harry wriggles to face him. He’s struck again by how gorgeous he is; glowing skin and bright eyes and bitten lips and a sharp jaw, shaggy hair pushed up and back. Harry wants to nip at the black ink buried under his skin, kiss all over his body until he’s holding back moans and pushing Harry's face in to his lap, fucking his throat raw.

 

Louis’ still catching his breath, and that makes Harry feel less ashamed of his heaving chest and wet cheeks and shaking fingers as he crawls over Louis’ body, hovering with his knees spread over Louis’ hips and ducking his neck down to kiss him where he’s sharp and grinning back against the fluffy pillows.

 

Harry kisses Louis with pliant lips and soft tongue and somewhere under the haze of his mind, he wonders what his mum would think of him, coming to a party dressed in girls’ clothing and getting fucked by some friend of Niall’s older brother. Louis runs his hands down his sides, squeezes at the soft skin of him before sloping down the curve of his bum, into where he’s spread and slipping two fingers back into his arse.

 

‘You’re so tight,’ Louis sighs, his fingers just slowly fucking in and out of Harry’s body, as if Harry isn’t slowly rolling back down from where he was almost reaching climax. ‘so soft.’ He squeezes the curve of Harry’s arse, and although Harry isn’t standing right on the peak of coming, his cock is still hard and full, wet and pink against his stomach, and he knows that he’ll be back onto his brink as soon as Louis’ fucking him again.

 

Louis withdraws his fingers from him, wiping them off before he wraps his fist around himself, stroking lazily so that the head of his cock jostles behind Harry’s balls with every other stroke as Louis licks away the strong alcohol on Harry’s tongue. Louis rests one arm behind his head as Harry takes a deep breath and sits up, hovering over where Louis stills his arm and Harry can feel his slick cockhead slip against his thigh as Louis holds himself still for Harry.

 

Harry bites at his finger, looking down to where Louis is looking right back up at him, his eyes lined dark and cheeks a bit pink.

 

Harry reaches down behind himself to wrap his own fist around Louis’ cock, knocking Louis' away and squeezing at his length as he widens his knees. He keeps his eyes on Louis as he leans back, Louis’ head nudging at his abused rim before Harry’s leaning into it and sinking down on his cock, his mouth open.

 

Louis rubs a thumb over the head of Harry’s prick, and Harry’s eyes roll back. He shifts his body around, watching as Louis slips and he gets a frantic look on his features and reaches for Harry, fingers just grazing his thigh before his cock is slipping out.

 

Harry reaches back for him, sitting back onto his cock and biting his lip at the feeling before he’s leaning his body back, resting his palm between Louis’ thighs and arching his back. Louis looks ready to reach for him as he grinds his hips forwards and backwards, but he keeps his hand just above his head, his fingers twitching as he watches the bob of Harry’s cock.

 

Harry leans back into himself, placing one hand on Louis’ stomach and letting the other tease down his own stomach, pulling on his nipples so that his eyes squeeze shut and his cock jumps. He skirts his hand lower down his stomach as Louis pants, Harry rocking his body to and fro so that his arse rubs against Louis’ stomach.

 

When he wraps his fist around his leaking cock, his eyelashes flutter and his grind falters, his hips twitching as his fingers tense and clench, his nails pressing blunt into the soft-covered muscle beneath Louis’ ribs.

 

Harry keeps his back straight, forcing out controlled breaths as he watches Louis slowly slip into a puddle like he made him while Harry clenches down around him and rocks his hips backwards and forwards, so that his cock can nudge his spot and his cock leaks another fat bead of precome, landing flat on Louis’ stomach.

 

Louis finally gives in and reaches for him, his eyes fixed to where Harry fists himself, before he rests one hand on Harry’s stomach and then the other; he traces them up between his tight-twisted nipples and rubbing down over the buds.

 

Harry throws his head back, his fingers slipping to clutch at Louis’ hip as he wanks his cock quickly while the feeling starts again as a little tingle in the tips of his toes and the tips of his ears. Louis pinches at his nipples, twisting them slightly as Harry rocks his hips faster, getting sloppy and clumsy with the speed of it as his fingers rush to touch himself, Louis’ cock hitting perfectly inside him as a high sound works out.

 

Harry’s eyes try to flutter closed, lids heavy and head tipping to one side as he starts to lose his thrive, his hips slowing ever so slightly and his fist stuttering in his quick strokes. Louis rolls his nipples between his thumbs, and Harry mewls, his chin tipping forward so his curls are in his eyes. He has sweat dotted down the line of his back and in his neck and he slowly loses steam.

 

Louis traces his hands down Harry’s sides, one hand hovering over his hip while the other spans over his thigh before Harry can reach down for Louis’ right hand with his left, tangling their fingers together as Louis slides his sweaty palm back up Harry’s side to thumb over the blood-red rosebud of his nipple as Harry clings his fingers around Louis’, palm clammy.

 

Louis squeezes his hand, and Harry grinds his hips faster, motivated by the small puffs of breath Louis releases, his hair messy and his eyes dark. Louis’ hand gets thrown from Harry’s chest in the move of it, Harry’s body rocking back and forth almost violently so Louis is left to just rest his hand on his thigh, squeezing at the soft dough.

 

Harry drops his hand and Louis lets go of him, arms splaying on the sheet as Harry looks down and focuses on Louis’ bruised mouth, fucking himself hard on his cock as he just tries to focus and stay put, his hips bucking forward wildly as his body writhes and his toes clench. His body wriggles with it, messy and sloppy and clumsy as his hand is a blur over his cock, a high whine coming from inside him as he climbs higher towards summit.

 

He presses his palm flat down on Louis’ chest, his body hot and bursting against too-tight skin as he leans into his arm and jerks his poor cock, Louis’ cock keeping him full as he fucks himself back. His eyes burn with it as his skin tingles and tears drip out, his mind going numb and his thoughts slowing to honey as he squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on the feeling of it.

 

Louis beneath him, Louis inside him, Louis holding onto his elbow to keep him steady as pleasure slowly fills up his limbs again, slipping through joints and lacing through his bones as a loud sob wracks him before Louis is wrapping his fist around Harry’s and helping him and Harry’s gone.

 

His body lights up, igniting as sweat clings to him and Louis fucks him just right, their fists fast as Harry’s cock gives a strong jolt and he’s coming, streaking out in ribbons over Louis’ stomach and Harry sobs, his body tense before he starts to shake, his arm buckling to he crumbles into Louis’ chest.

 

His body shakes with pitiful sobs, spit wetting his chin as he cries into Louis’ chest, twitching in his lap. Louis strokes up the line of his spine, cooing in his ear and petting him softly as Harry hiccups and wails into his skin, fingers twitching in the bedding. Louis sounds breathless as he murmurs encouragement into Harry’s ear, his heart beat erratic against Harry’s through the jackets of their skin and protection of their bones.

 

Harry feels warm all over, boiling hot in his centre, and it takes his hazy mind much longer than it should to realize that Louis’ jerking himself off, arm rubbing against his skin before he’s gasping into Harry’s ear and there’s sticky warmth mapped out over the curve of his back.

 

Harry whimpers, his sobs quieting to hiccups as the last of his tears trickle down. Louis tries to calm himself quickly, sucking in air as he kisses Harry’s forehead.

 

Harry just snuffles and lets Louis tilt his chin up, kissing him softly and running his hands up his smooth sides. He feels raw and sleepy, body warm and sated as his mind wanders between clouds and Louis goes about asking him simple questions about himself, trying to get longer answers out of him until he’s sure Harry’s fine.

 

Louis’ in the middle of what sounds like he might be kicking Harry out when Harry decides to fall asleep, dead to the world and snuffling into Louis’ neck.

 

But at least when he wakes up, hours later, Louis is snuffling into his hair with his arms looped loosely around him.


End file.
